Reverse Psychology
by masterctarl
Summary: MtMtE - After a session with Rung, Tailgate has a curious question. Not being used to others being interested in him, Rung is only happy to answer it. And even through answering questions about himself and an old friend from Cybertron, he may still teach the minibot a thing or two about himself and life in general. Ficlet, One-Shot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, or any person, place, or thing associated with it. It belongs to Hasbro/Takara. Don't sue me.**

**Note: **I wrote this with the intention that its right before the fateful visit Tailgate makes to the infirmary after Overlord's defeat. This means I might have fudged up the timeline a little bit. I apologize if I did, but as this is my first MtMtE fanfic I hope you don't mind too much. Please Read, Enjoy, and Review.

Edit: Revised the fanfic so it's grammatically correct. No more 2am posting for me.

**Reverse Psychology**

Rung checked his internal clock in the silence that hung between him and Tailgate. It wasn't awkward. In fact in their session Tailgate had spent all two hours very open about his insecurities following Overlord's escape. While it wasn't required for anyone to see him, some needed someone to talk to in the wake of losing their friends and crewmates. The one he wished would visit was Chromedome, as the trauma of his hand in the death of Rewind could greatly affect his ability to continue with their journey. However, the mnemosurgeon had taken to shutting himself away. Brainstorm was going to go talk to him, last Rung heard.

"Alright, Tailgate, our time is up," the psychiatrist informed him.

"Has it been two hours already?" the minibot asked in surprise.

"Yes, it has," Rung smiled warmly. He tried not to play favorites, he did his absolute best. Tailgate was an enjoyable patient, though. He was open and honest, at least since he admitted he wasn't really bomb disposal (something which Rung had suspected for some time). Certainly more-so than most of the rest of the crew.

"Oh, well then I guess I'll see you later," the garbage bot pushed himself off the seat, stumbling a bit as his pedes hit the floor.

"Of course," Rung turned to his desk, jotting down notes. He was quite used to bots simply leaving without another word when they were done. Which was why he was surprised with the waste disposal expert spoke up.

"Um… can… can I ask you a question before I go?"

The psychiatrist turned back around, tilting his helm to the side. "Of course, though why didn't you ask before we ended?"

"Oh, it's not about me," Tailgate said quickly, waving his hands in that frantic way he tended to do. "It's actually about you."

"Me?" Rung asked in astonishment. Tailgate was interested in knowing about _him_? Most 'bots never showed such a thing. "What do you wish to know?"

The white and blue minibot played with his servos in the way he usually did when anxious or nervous. Finally, he asked, "You've spent your lifecycle listening to everyone else's problems, right?"

"Of course, it's what I enjoy doing. It's how I help people," the orange mech said patiently. He was waiting for where this was going. Typically it led to, 'How do you handle it?'

Tailgate hesitated again, then vented loudly. Finally, out came, "Who do _you_ talk to when you need to vent?"

Rung was taken aback once again. That was the last question he'd expected. It was a very good one, though. "Well… on this ship, no one, really. I only just met most of you, and those I've known previously are patients of mine. It would be extremely inappropriate for me to unload upon them."

Tailgate's visor lit up, hurrying back to the patient seat and climbing on. He leaned forward excitedly. "You said 'on the ship'! That means there's someone you talk to on Cybertron, right?"

Run chuckled, putting his stylus down and turning fully to face him again. It almost looked like the session was going to continue. However, this time it was Rung talking while Tailgate listened. And he knew from observing him that the minibot was a fantastic listener. "Due to my profession, there aren't a lot of people I can speak to candidly. Most of my patients have mental fallibilities I must tip-toe around. Thus this may sound highly hypocritical, but the one 'bot I _can_ talk to _is_ one of them. He isn't like my other patients, however. He and I were two of the few 'bots that are old enough to remember life before the launch of the Ark 1. We even attended the launch of many of the ships together. I would have loved if he could have seen the launch of the Lost Light. Who knows, maybe he would have even joined us. He could never sit in one place too long."

Tailgate tilted his helm to the side. "You're not using present tense. Did something happen?" It was amazing how candid he was with the questions.

"He is… no longer with us. He was a great mech, and a war hero. He sacrificed himself to save us all."

"I'm so sorry…" Tailgate covered his faceplate with his servos. Optic fluid welled up around his visor.

"No, don't be." Rung was continually amazed at how finely tuned the young mech's emotional circuits were. He didn't know if it was especially designed for him, but his optics had the ability to display more than most 'bots with a fully functional face like himself could. "When someone is important to you, they become a part of you. Sometimes when I need someone to talk to I just access that part of me. I can hear his voice, I know what he'd say. I can even hear his laugh, every long-winded tall-tale…"

"You cared for him a lot, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. I still do."

"Were you Conjux Endurae?"

"Oh, no," Rung chuckled. "That is perhaps the _most_ inappropriate thing I could be with a patient. We were simply friends, companions."

"What if he wasn't one? A patient, I mean," Tailgate persisted. "Would you have considered it?"

The orange mech seemed to honestly consider it. "Perhaps. If circumstances had been different…" he trailed off, glancing at the expectant minibot before smiling again. "Well, look at us. Wouldn't you make a fine psychiatrist?"

Tailgate started a bit. "I would?" he squeaked out.

"Very much so. Anyone who manages to make a seasoned professional open up so easily would."

Tailgate lit up, almost glowing at the compliment. "I'm gonna go now, then, while I'm on a high note. I want to visit Ratchet and see how Ultra Magnus is doing," he said, once again pushing himself off of the seat to leave. He paused at the door again. "Do you think, if you need someone to talk to and your friend is… I dunno… hard to find? Do you wanna talk to me again?"

Rung's smile warmed, nodding. "I would love to, Tailgate." He waved the 'bot out and turned back to his notes again. He had much more on his mind than Tailgate's session, however.

So he shuttered his optics and concentrated on the one they had been talking about.

"…Kup…?"

"_Hey, Doc. Been a while."_

"I know. I'm sorry. I've been busy."

"_Yeah, I know. Brains ta pick and all that."_

"Yes. And… and I probably won't be speaking to you again for a while."

"_Oh, really?"_ Kup's voice sounded amused.

"I've found someone else to speak to. Someone… someone alive. Corporeal. Someone not in my mind."

"_You dumpin' me?"_

"Kup!"

_I'm kiddin'. Proud o' you. Ya've spent long enough bein' a piece o' furnature."_

"Long enough being the nameless mech in the oil house window?" Rung chuckled.

"_Exactly. Ya've always deserved better, Rung."_

"And this time I believe you. Thank you, Kup. Goodbye."

"_See ya later, Doc."_

Rung onlined his optics, smiling, and returning to his work.


End file.
